Closed at the End
by mediaboy
Summary: Harry Potter is on the verge of ending the Wizarding War once and for all as he faces Voldemort one last time. With no friends, no family and no hopes left, Harry is forced to face an undeniable truth: the afterlife doesn't want to see him for at least another hundred years, no matter what. The Department of Mysteries steps in to help, with unpredictable side-effects.
1. The End

"Tom. It's been a while." The two wizards stared at each other, mutual hatred burning in their eyes.

The older one paced, wand at the ready as they circled, his red eyes burning in the dim light, "I left that name a long time ago. In the grave with my damned father and his damned lies."

"Would you prefer Riddle?" The words snapped out almost before Harry had thought about them.

Voldemort flinched, the venom in the air unnerving him for just a second. "I suppose that is something the late Headmaster urged you to do."

"Indeed."

"Loyalty to Dumbledore even in the grave?" Voldemort's face settled into a sneer as the two combatants edged closer, the slow circling spiralling inwards, "As foolish as your mudblood mother."

"Her blood was purer than yours Tom." Harry's voice was calm, steady, barely boiling with the anger that he felt, "And it is not Dumbledore of who I speak. Severus was a good man."

"A traitor to the end."

"To you perhaps."

The two were approaching arm's reach of each other, stepping carefully over the rubble and debris of the Castle that they had destroyed with their battles over the last four years. So many had fallen. Harry could almost see the bodies dotted around the remnants of the Great Hall. Ron, Hermione, Ginny. The rest of the Weasleys, as they battled nearly three times as many Death Eaters, holding them just long enough for the apparition wards to be rebuilt around them, letting Harry kill them all as they tried to flee. Sacrifices. Too many.

His memories burned within him, a hatred that he directed outwards at the red eyed monster in front of him, so close he could alm- "_Avada Kedavara_"

Reacting on pure instinct, Harry apparated directly upwards, the green ray destroying another pillar even as his wand snapped forwards, casting cutting curses as often as stunners, only for Voldemort to follow him into the air, them apparating around as fast as they could cast.

"_Reducto_"

"_Diffindo_"

"_Avada Kedavara_"

"_Expelliarmus_"

"_Crucio_"

Every spell aimed directly towards the other wizard, each and everyone capable of ending the fight in one way or another, only for the wizard to jump in midair to another place, accelerating all the time, constantly towards a floor that they never reached.

Sprays of spells burst from every position, chipping away at the stonework. Glancing to either side, Harry came to a decision. It was time. End it tonight, or never at all. Spinning in the air he let go of his wand into the air and stretched his hands out and screamed an incantation he had learnt for this exact purpose, catching his wand and halting his downwards movement even as the last syallable of the targeted anti-apparition ward echoed in the sudden silence.

Harsh laughter filled the dusty hall even as the two combatants landed at opposite ends, Harry at the Teacher's dias, Voldemort stood in the doors of the Great Hall.

"I see you are a worthy opponent after all."

"There was doubt?"

"You are a half-blood."

"Just like you."

Voldemort's face twitched into a grimace of anger, reflexively blasting a stream of blasting and cutting curses towards the head table, even as Harry twisted his wand, knocking them to the side one after another, catching the last on a rapidly cast shield charm.

"I am Lord Voldemort."

"Then apparate."

There was a snarl before the battle began in earnest once more, neither of them able to apparate, Harry as the caster, Voldemort as the target. It was a uniquely flawed ward.

Ducking and twisting, rolling under a spell that he didn't recognise, Harry completed another complicated wand movement, firing off a particularly vicious variant on the Bat Bogey Hex that Ginny had showed him once and only once after a mission which had nearly gone horribly wrong. She had never quite forgiven him for the danger he had put himself in that night, not even on her deathbed.

Voldemort batted it to one side, before drawing himself up and firing a pattern of death dealing curses towards the black haired boy.

Swearing, he pointed to Voldemort and screamed _"Finite_" before apparating directly upwards, resuming the air battle that he had suppressed for all too long.

"How long before you get tired? How long before you collapse?"

The rapid spells, most of them silently cast, provided Voldemort with the opportunity to taunt his younger opponent.

"Maybe I should tease this slowly from your body, leaving you begging for the perils of death, leaving you wishing for the whispers of mercy that I refused to give your ginger haired slut"

Harry's eyes narrowed, rolling in midair to avoid a purple curse that he immediately threw back, his vocalisation long since internalised for all but the most powerful of spells, allowing him to cast in much faster succession.

"Don't speak of the dead Tom, especially not the woman that would have become my wife."

"Your wife?" A scoff, even as more bolts of light streamed between the two, like fireworks in the sky. "She was on her knees begging Lucius for more before her de-"

The taunt cut off as Harry apparated with a snarl, closing the distance in an instant, punching Voldemort in the face, too close for any wandwork.

Voldemort apparated to the ground, casting a spell to halt his movement even as he lifted a hand to his nose, blood dripping onto the floor, blocking the rapid attacks of his opponent even as he gazed at the red drips on the floor.

With a growl, Harry pushed himself once more and opened his mind, breaking away his Occlumency barriers to see directly into Voldemort's mind, the connection never one of Voldemort's bidding. This had to end quickly.

Gathering memories of his childhood, he threw them at the dark mind in front of him, before following up on the faltering shields in front of him with a string of spells that he had never thought to use. A cutting curse, the torture curse, a tripping hex, a transfiguration of silk to stone, a variant on _Aquamenti_, followed by a killing curse and a freezing charm, before flicking back to a second cutting curse that led to the start of the chain.

The two wizards pressed against each other, Voldemort backpedalling as fast as Harry could fly forwards, both hovering just enough off of the ground to avoid the need for steps, but neither able to conjure the presence of mind to apparate: one too busy trying to deal with new memories and a rapid attack that needed four different shields, a complex transfiguration and a countercharm in rapid succession, the other keeping up a chain that could last so long as he maintained focus.

Spinning even as he cast the requisite shields in the correct order, Voldemort sidestepped the killing curse and blasted the Great Door open with an _Alohormi Reducta, _only to spin and catch the cutting curse on a rapidly transfigured stone pillar that rose from the ground, resuming his desperate defence. Harry's memories started drawing on his first year at Hogwarts, maintaining the mental barrage, as he slipped seamlessly into a second chain of spells, one in which the intermediate steps could be any combination of half a dozen intricate spells crafted by his godfather.

Eyes widening at spells that he didn't recognise, the red eyed wizard turned to a set of charms and transfigurations to defend him, drawing on areas of magic that he didn't recognise.

A feral grin on his face, Harry pushed more, speeding his casting up, before splitting his mind and raising his left hand and starting a second spellchain with his offhand.

The Dark Lord felt it coming, saw the spell coming, and tried desperately to catch the countercharm with a desperate defence, only to feel the hovering charm break, his feet touching the grass, his momentum sending him flying backwards, head over feet, robes tangling up, even as he flew straight into a stone wall that Harry conjured into existence, transfigured arms trapping him even as a cutting curse slashed through his wand, breaking once and for all the power of the Elder Wand.

"Goodbye Tom."

And with a silent _diffindo _the war ended, the blood of the Dark Lord spilling over the grounds of Hogwarts.

Tears fell to the ground, sadness mixed with joy as emotions suppressed by long-standing habit sprang to the surface. Muddling through the mist of his emotions he focused on a thought. 'Never again'. Waving his wand and enunciating clearly, he watched as his Patronus stepped carefully around the body of the fallen Dark Lord to nudge against his kneeling body. "Tell the Ministry that the war is over."

The Patronus turned and sprang into the air, fading into nothingness as it stepped through space towards it's destination. They had never learnt how they did it, he remembered briefly. They had argued, time and time again, over the sentience of the strange beings that they could bring into existence. They had argued over their abilities and qualities. But no more. He shook his head. Now was not the time to imagine his long dead friends and their thoughts. He could join them now and discuss their thoughts in the afterlife.

He felt, rather than heard, the cracks of air around him as the Aurors arrived. And he felt, rather than heard, the anti-apparition wards spring up around him. He nodded slowly. It didn't surprise him. Picking himself up, he turned and looked at the ring of wizards around him, their wands focused unerringly on him and the Patronus that stood behind him.

"Mr Potter. You are under arrest for the murders of countless individuals, the theft of priceless artefacts from Gringotts, the destruction of said artefacts of immense historial importance and the destruction of the institution of Hogwarts, Azkaban and many shops in Diagon Alley. You are to surrender your wand and stand down immediately for transportation to a secure facility where you will be judged and found guilty."

He looked at the gleeful woman in pink before him and all around him once more. He could run. He could always run. They were Aurors, and he had fought them before. For a second, he contemplated it. Staring at the bitch in front of him, he wished, for a second, it was a choice.

She deserved to die, to be hunted down and killed, limb after limb torn off. But it was not his place, not his fight. He had done enough. His eyes smouldered for a second, before he lifted his hands high, keeping his wand loosely held. Meeting the eyes of his Patronus, he nodded to the unspoken question. It bowed it's head to him, a silver tear flowing from its patient eyes, understanding, before it disappeared for the final time.

"Mr Potter, your wand."

He looked her in the eye, staring deep into her soul. "Go to hell."

Half a second later, his body exploded, his own silent spell doing what none of the Aurors wanted to do, coating the pink cardigan with a sticky layer of red blood.


	2. The Epilogue

There was no pain, there was no anger, there was no hate. He had done his job, done his part. He stood in a white room, embossed pearls on stone marking the outline of a pair of gates in front of him. He could see the villages beyond, a countryside stretching far away, birds flying high above. Free and forgiven. He smiled at them as they wheeled. He was at pea-

The gates burst open, a small, and rather stout, woman bustling outwards towards him, gesticulating wildly. "This simply won't do, won't do at all. I'm not having it."

"Do I know you?"

"I would bloody well hope not. Stay right there! You'll be going right back in just a jiffy." The woman started digging around in her pockets, emptying out a small mountain of sweet wrappers, small change and a small stone that Harry _swore_ he had dropped in a forest not that many years ago, mounted on a tarnished gold ring.

Mouth opening and closing wildly, he pointed a finger, before finally managing to voice his outrage, "Hey! What is that doing here?"

Looking curiously at where he pointed, her eyes brightened. "There it is! Right then, off you go."

She tossed him the stone underhand and seeker instincts stepped in, his hand snatching it out of thin air.

He looked at it, looked at her smirking face, and felt the telltale pull behind his navel. Staring at the birds, still flying carelessly in the skies behind the gates, he uttered the only word that seemed to describe his thoughts.

"Fuck."

* * *

The pink clothed witch brushed blood off of her clothes, her wand silently removing the stains as her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. This was not her plan.

Suddenly, the body at the centre of the shocked ring twitched, silver light burning around its neck, a new head forming, showing an equally shocked Harry Potter.

"Er… this has never happened to me before. I don't really know what to say…" his voice trailed off as he stared at the witch in front of him, his eyes travelling between his wand and the woman uncertainly.

The Aurors let their wands fall slightly, eyeing each other up across the ring.

Umbridge stared for a second before raising her voice, "I said arrest this man! Arrest him!"

The man in question looked at the Aurors, who soundlessly shrugged in agreement with him. They didn't know either. Looking at the witch in pink again he looked down at his wand with the look of a man that didn't really know what to do.

Shrugging, he lifted it to his head and blew it off again.

* * *

The woman in white stared at the wizard in disbelief for a second. Her eyes calculating wildly, "Why have you come back?"

Harry looked incredulously at the woman. Who wouldn't want to come back?

A metaphorical lightbulb flickered on. She stormed past him, pulling at his arm, towards the edge of the white paving. "I mean, just look, look down at it. It's beautiful!"

Edging closer to the edge and peering over. Harry raised an eyebrow. It was night-time, and beneath black thunderclouds shuddered with unspent energy. "Don't look that nice to m-"

A warm hand touched his back gently, before tensing and shoving forwards.

Watching as the wizard soared like a stone towards the broiling muck beneath, she shouted after him, "And stay down there this time!"

* * *

As the surprised, and somewhat annoyed, Harry Potter burst back into the world of the living, barely seconds after he had decapitated himself for the second time, an equally surpised and equally annoyed pink toad halfbreed was getting progressively more red. "I DEMAND YOU ARREST HIM!"

Looking guiltilty around him at the smirking aurors, he waved his hand in the air, barely noticing as Umbridge's eyes widened, ducking everytime his wand was pointed anywhere near her.

"I swear I don't normally have these kinds of performance issues with my wand. It normally does exactly what I want it too."

One of the aurors smirked. Oh yes. She knew exactly what he meant. She used her wand to absently scratch her head through the purple streaks as she turned to pick up the menu that Aberforth had thoughtfully provided. It looked like they were going to be here for a long time.

A very, long time.

Chicken perhaps?

She idly cleaned her robes for the third time as the blood showered.

Beef. Definitely beef.

* * *

"Will you _please_ stop blowing yourself up? Go on! Off with yourself!"

* * *

"STOP DOING THAT!"

Umbridge was, by this point, thoroughly covered in sticky blood, still completely incensed.

Somewhat apologetically, Harry got to his feet, picking up his wand again, and brushing off the dirt off of his robes for the fourth time. Eyeing the sky above somewhat dubiously he twirled the wand absent mindedly. Maybe he could try something else. A short incantation later, Fiendfyre blasted the ground around him as he burnt his body to ashes, ending forever his connec-

* * *

"You _again_? I don't want to see you for at _least_ another fifteen years. Go on! Off with you!"

* * *

The original Aurors, by this point, had taken to sitting there and quietly betting amongst themselves how long it was before the Boy-Who-Lived-Too-Many-Times-To-Count would finally find a spell that would stop his somewhat miraculous returns to life.

After the forty third attempt, they had stopped counting and had just sat down to watch the frustrated wizard and petulant Minister have their somewhat one-sided argument. She would yell abuse at him, he would kill himself, ten seconds later he would return, as if nothing had happened, only for her abuse to start up all over again.

The roast pork, they had found, was particularly tasty, and with a few choice charms, they had managed to tone down the multiple suicide victim's repeated attempts. A ring of small rocks enchanted to soak up the blood, combined with a few charms to silence the screams, and they could kick back and relax.

It had been a very long standing attempt at arresting someone, and by now the Unspeakables and more reinforcements for the Aurors had turned up, along with at least three cameramen and several reporters.

Aberforth was making a killing.

Waving his wand idly at the pink-clothed bitch, who was by now the only person still doing anything but enjoying refreshments served by the somewhat bemused Aberforth, who loved the way that Umbridge would duck every time Harry's mouth opened, Harry finally addressed the crowd.

"Hi, uh, I'm having a few problems." The Dark Lord Hunter even had the good graces to look a little embarrassed. "My wand seems to… uh... yeah. Would someone mind helping me out?"

Eyeing each other up, the Aurors shrugged. Harry Potter _was_ wanted dead or alive. Preferably dead. Then they wouldn't have to clean the high security dungeons out this week.

Seeing a chance, Mundungus Fletcher burst to the front and sidled through the auror lines, Sonorus charm already cast, "One galleon to kill the Boy-Who-Lives. Just one galleon to have your own chance at trying to end this poor man's life. Line up, line up, line up for this once in a lifetime opportunity to kill a great wizard!"

There was moment of silence, before a general rush towards the Aurors. Aberforth scratched his chin idly, before duplicating a few more menus. This was probably going to take a while.

Shrugging, the wizard turned to face the first volunteer, who started the proceedings with a fairly dark hex that exploded the body in its entirety.

There was a pause, some polite applause amid bated breath, and then a very harassed wizard popped back onto the ground as if nothing had happened.

Mundungus shrugged. More money for him. "NEXT!"

* * *

"Oh this is completely ridiculous." The heavenly presence turned around, looking for assistance. "Miranda! Get over here! He keeps on coming back."

* * *

"_Avada Kedavara_"

* * *

"Please would you stop sending me ba-"

* * *

"Bloody wizards!"

* * *

"_Diffindo_"

His head bounced merrily around the ground for a second…

* * *

"Hello? I'd like to die someti-"

* * *

..before promptly bouncing back onto his shoulders, just in time for the next wizard to step up and silently slash his wand, a purple hex ending his life again.

* * *

"I want to see my friends!"

* * *

The crowd had, by this time, got rather large. It had been three days now, without respite, and Mundungus' collection of Galleons had grown rather large.

With a grim frown, the first of the international tourists stepped up to the line.

* * *

There was, by this time, quite a crowd of them trying to push him back. They all agreed that it wasn't supposed to be this way. He had killed the darkest wizard of his age. He was supposed to have a long lasting life.

They were just making sure of it.

* * *

It took nearly a week before one of the Unspeakables made a polite suggestion and, after quietly dispersing the crowd of objectors with the promise that they would return the Wizard in immaculate condition if this didn't work (even if they had to kill him to make sure of his condition!) escorted the intensely annoyed Wizard to the chamber of Death.

"So I just have to walk through that veil right?"

"Yeah, basically." The Unspeakable shrugged, not really understanding quite what all the fuss was about, having spent the last ten years working on one of his projects without really paying attention to all the Dark Lord nonsense that some of his less dedicated co-workers had been going on about.

Glancing to either side of him at the rather bored Auror guards that had been assigned to him, he stepped forwards towards the veil, hearing whispers from the void beyond.

"Er, is it supposed to be talking?"

"Yup. That's normal"

"Is it supposed to be telling me that office hours don't include Saturdays?"

The eyes of the Auror guards met each other with the same wry amusement that they'd had for the last few days, in shifts, whenever something didn't quite work properly.

"Look, just jump through!" The Unspeakable rolled his eyes, he just wanted to get back to his runes. He thought he had a really interesting development in the Egyptian papyrus that he'd found at the bottom of the racks in the third warehouse.

Taking a deep breath, Harry ran forwards and dived through the veil.

* * *

"Oh, hey Harry!"

"Ginny!"

"Fancy seeing you here. Let me just get changed."

She ran rather quickly towards one of the doors, nearly managing to close it before a naked man fully opened it, giving him a view of what looked like sexy lingerie spread all over a very rumpled bedsheet.

"Neville?!"

"Er, hey Harry. This isn't what it looks like!"

Harry's mouth opened and closed, not entirely sure of what to say. Finding another man in your girlfriend's bedroom in the afterlife was not something that you were trained to deal with as part of your normal lessons at Hogwarts.

A distant rumble of the footsteps of hundreds of whiteclad attendants swept into thunder as they barrelled towards him.

"THERE HE IS!"

* * *

The Unspeakable had just about decided to leave the room and finish writing the series of translations that he had decided on when the Veil crackled with sparks and a wizard came flying out towards him, swearing violently about women wearing white robes and their increasingly annoying habit of refusing to accept him in the afterlife and muttering something about having to go and deal with a conniving cheating girlfriend and a womanising bastard of a wizard.

Without saying a word, one of the aurors tossed a bag of coins towards the other. Smirking, his partner tucked it away in an inside pocket before continuing their conversation about plans for the rapidly approaching Christmas celebrations.

It wasn't their business to interfere.

Storming to his feet, Harry Potter headed straight back towards the folds.

* * *

He flew through the air at three hundred miles an hour, the lack of any real air causing him to barely slow down, even as three of the white-robed women managed to grab hold of him as he burst through their defensive lines.

"Finally!"

Harry waved a hand casually, summoning the spells that had always worked for him, pushing them off of him firmly but gently. Even if they were trying to unkill him, it wasn't as if he needed to be overly harsh towards them. They were just trying to do their job.

Finally landing on his feet, he looked around for the nearest pub and started walking towards it, looking forwards to his first drink in over a year.

"HARRY POTTER! WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Eyeing his mother-in-law-to-be with a nervous gulp, he felt his motion stop as she grabbed his ear.

"You are to go back and live your life full of happiness! Go and enjoy it. You have another hundred years."

She started dragging him very quickly towards the rapidly approaching pearly gates.

"I adopted you into our family out of the kindness of my heart and the least that you can do is spend the good time to get to know at least two more women to give me some children to look down on in the afterlife!"

His heels flipped over his head as she chucked him out.

* * *

"Come on, please, help me somehow!"

The Unspeakables glanced at each other, looked back at the Wizard who had, so far, spent the last three weeks throwing himself in increasingly inventive ways towards the veil that had, so far, proved to be inescapable for all comers but the Dark Lord killer.

They weren't entirely sure what to do. The Minister had told them to make sure he didn't leave the Ministry alive, no matter what.

They weren't even allowed to string him up in the main lobby as a fundraiser for St Mungo's

One of the Senior Wizards finally stepped forwards. "There is an option."

"What is it?"

He glanced across at one of his colleagues somewhat nervously, not entirely sure if he should be sharing _her_ research. One of them stepped up into his place, seamlessly taking over, "Many years ago, one of our most talented researchers, your own mother, developed a ritual that would send someone's soul back in time, binding them into the timeline at an earlier point. It was however, a terribly flawed spell."

Harry looked at the man, eyeing him up carefully. "What was wrong with it?"

"It had the unfortunate side-effect of killing the caster."

"Perfect! Teach me it!"

The Unspeakables grinned, the chance to explore an almost untested ritual something that they loved to do. Immediately arguments sprang up over the best way to do it. Was it sheeps blood or cows blood? Did it need to be from young animals, or did it need to have matured? Was it best to use black candles or white candles or magelights? Just what type of frog was it that the frogs legs had to come from?

Feeling rather ignored as they enthusiastically argued, pulling reference material from every desk – including a few that he swore weren't there a second ago - the Man-Who-Survived-Too-Many-Things went back to quietly trying to kill himself.


End file.
